


golden dawns flourish in your eyes

by lastrealdreamer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cuddling, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Non AU, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 17:47:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastrealdreamer/pseuds/lastrealdreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry looks for the good in the world and Louis sees the world in Harry</p>
            </blockquote>





	golden dawns flourish in your eyes

 Life is simple before Harry Styles.

 It’s a day-to-day, paycheck-to-paycheck kind of life, one that has no purpose but surviving, but making money and checking out girls with Stan and dreading university. But once Harry stumbles into Louis’s life, it’s all gone. He’ll be with his family and he’s thinking about how lovely his mum’s laugh is or how the twins have grown so much but then he hears Harry’s favorite song or finds his sweater mixed with his clothes and Louis just smiles, because nothing is more satisfying than knowing that something so simple could remind him of his goofy best friend, his lover. Because that’s the best kind of love. How Louis can talk to him about anything and everything without being judged, how Louis can taunt and tease without complaint, and they can wrestle for the remote (even though Louis knows he’ll eventually give up just to see those damn dimples). And now, Louis is silently thanking fate and destiny and all that other stuff he never believed in before, because the boy that Louis met in the toilets, the one with the unruly curly hair and wide green eyes and fucking huge hands, was finally his to kiss and cuddle and wake up to each and every morning.

 And no matter how many dates their management set up for him and Eleanor, at the end of the day, he goes home to Harry, who welcomes him with open arms and dinner and kisses and a new story to tell with his agonizingly languid voice. Knowing he has three new brothers and a gorgeous lover and his family supporting him is enough to keep Louis going.

 Louis kind of wishes that he’d seen Harry at that Script concert all those years ago- anything to be able to have more time to make love and kiss and cuddle and to sit on the kitchen counter while Harry cooks for them and just be in the presence of him- but he pushes the thought away because now Harry’s threading his fingers through his hair and peppering kisses along his temple and cheekbones and eyelids and anywhere Louis is, really.

 And Harry can’t quite believe he’s found someone like the boy that’s lying on his bare chest, because in reality he’d always figured that he’d just find some pretty girl to marry and give his mom grandchildren to spoil and live a normal life. He hadn’t expected to even get on the X Factor, much less make it to the live shows with four other guys that he’d quickly become attached to; much, much less find someone like Louis to love, who loves him right back.

 It’s a Sunday morning and they’ve got no responsibilities other than each other, lazing about in bed until ten, blinking against the sunlight slanting in through their blinds.  
Louis loves Harry best in the small moments, when he first wakes and shakes out his hair, rubs the sleep out of his eyes like a tabby kitten.

 “Good morning,” his gravelly voice whispers to Louis, the corners of his mouth curling upwards. Louis leans down and kisses him softly, pressing his small hands against Harry’s bare chest to feel the rhythm of his heartbeat. The duvet crinkles between them, forgotten, as they trace sappy words into each other’s skin. And Louis would normally break the mood by tracing something like _westside_ or _farts_ or something equally immature, but these mornings are especially rare, so he doesn’t. This is the boy that he fell in love with, the one with the doe eyes and bad posture and lanky limbs that somehow curl into his lap. It’s one of the few times that Louis actually feels like he’s contributing to their relationship. He knows that that’s stupid and Harry would probably chastise him for it, but it’s how he feels. Helpless, while Eleanor clings to his side. Angry, while slurs like manwhore and attention-seeker are thrown at his boy. Desperate, while Harry turns away from him in bed after another lash-out on Twitter.

 So these days stay sacred.

 They spend the afternoon cuddling on the sofa, limbs tangled and hearts intertwined, watching movies that are either far too cheesy or far too violent, drinking tea and eating greasy foods just because they can.

 At the end of the day, they cook dinner together, which basically means Louis handing over ingredients and cooking utensils and Harry humming under his breath while stirring or mixing or boiling water. They sit at the table with small smiles and the radio playing softly in the background, Louis’ free hand on Harry’s thigh and Harry’s fingers filling the spaces between his as they eat and sip their purposefully-cheap wine. Louis washes the dishes and Harry dries them and put them away, both singing gentle love songs, their voices contradicting in the most alluring way. Finally the sun sets and it casts an orange glow throughout their flat and they slow dance clumsily in the living room, stepping on toes and sneaking kisses and giggling quietly. When Louis twirls Harry, Harry spins back into his chest and cups his chin in his huge hands and kisses the life out of him. They stumble up the steps and shove aside all the blankets on the bed and fall back onto the pillows, clothes falling like snowflakes that melt when they touch warm skin.

 Louis opens up Harry with his fingers and take his time, because seeing Harry coming undone below him is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. They kiss lazily, not willing to rush this, not willing to end it before it’s even begun. Harry tells Louis that he’s ready- because really he’s always been ready; ready for everything that came with loving the boy that hovers over him, he’s not scared and he never has been and he never will be. And they don’t know where their limbs end and begin but they don’t care because Louis is jerking Harry off lazily and Harry is keening, back arching off of the mattress. They kiss again, all teeth and bitten lips and wine-tainted breath, sharing soft noises in the finite space between their mouths.

 Harry wraps his legs around Louis’ waist and presses his heels into his lower back as they both reach their climax, vision blotting out everything but each other, everything but the feeling of their lips moving slowly together and Louis inside of Harry. Louis collapses beside his breathless lover and curdles under his arm, pulling the blanket back around their warm bodies, falling asleep quickly, savoring the moment but anticipating the morning ahead.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on here and it is not beta'd so if you see any mistakes, feel free to tell me. Kudos are very much appreciated (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤


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